


Not all ghost stories are fiction

by Gyoro_and_Ururun



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: FYDL Halloween week
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-14 07:23:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16488227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gyoro_and_Ururun/pseuds/Gyoro_and_Ururun
Summary: Started for the FYDL Halloween week, something strange is going on and Darcy is at the centre of it.[Updates are slow but it's ongoing. <3]





	1. The Witch

**Author's Note:**

> This is an AU piece where Thor matured without banishment long ago and Jane and Darcy meet Thor while he is hunting a monster with his friends. The events of the Avengers likely happened via a child of Thanos. Things are otherwise fairly similar to canon. Just thought I'd do something different. x] (Also no Civil war because I don't like that storyline.)

Darcy enjoyed her time around the Avengers; she had been there in New Mexico when some sort of huge alien thing had crash landed and Thor and his friends had come to get rid of it. She had certainly not complained, for it nearly killed the lot of them. One little internship with a scientist, Jane Foster, and she had nearly become a pancake. So a huge rainbow light with some viking-looking people coming to take that thing out was much appreciated. And after a few times they’d come to get rid of some alien that wasn’t supposed to be there, Thor himself had been roped into some big disaster that brought together the Avengers.

It was entertaining, at least, seeing so many different personalities put together.

Now why was she, Darcy Lewis, relatively normal ass girl from West Virginia getting involved with all of this (first meeting with Thor aside)? She just happened to be the (secret) daughter of Tony Stark. Secret mainly because her dad was very famous and _very_ much a target of crazy revenge. From his own friend to enemies of his father to terrible mistakes of the past. She had been _so_ glad her pseudo step-mother was okay after all that.

It was all well and good, having these heroes, but seriously the problems were getting worse and worse. Dark elves, Hydra, Hydra creates Ultron, government threatening to end the Avengers if they didn’t sign their damned document and then Thor refusing to do so, bidding them try to stop him saving Midgard and let’s just say the subject dropped.

But then it went pretty quiet, nothing overarching, which was nice but weird.

Then there was the website she’d stumbled upon. Talk about a witch that granted wishes, for a price. All sorts of rumours and yet, nothing truly confirmed. Only ever appeared at night or so it said. There was nothing in depth, nothing that made you think _this is real_. Just ghost stories, in the end, but Darcy would have believed that if this was before she had met Thor. Thor had told them tales over the years, tales of all kinds of other beings, sorcerers, dwarves, elves…she had _met_ the elves and the dark ones were everything you expected from such a name and nothing. It was fascinating to read, though, and she continued to research, even outside of the site.

She sat down with Thor at some point, just hanging out, and she had some questions to ask him. She knew magic existed, of course, but Darcy wanted to know _more_.

“So Thor, magic exists…so there’s witches and wizards?” Darcy asked.

“I suppose. My—some would say the proper term is sorcerer or sorceress, but I do not know many myself. My mother practises magic, she is very good at it,” Thor said.

“Do you know much about them and magic?”

“Not really; m—my mother always had the talent, but I never had the interest,” Thor said with a smile. She noticed he’d stumbled on his words twice now, but it was probably for the best that she didn’t prod. After all, as nosy as she could be…it wasn’t exactly urgent.

“That’s fair enough. I’ve been seeing some stories crop up about the mystery of a so-called witch,” Darcy said.

“Here on Midgard? If they are real, they are likely from Vanaheim. That is home to the most sorcerers,” Thor said.

“Does Earth not have anything then?”

“Not in the traditional sense, as far as I am aware. I know Wanda nicknames herself the Scarlet Witch, but proper sorcerers can do so much more, although the mind reading stuff isn’t so common,” Thor explained. “As far as I am aware, that is.”

“Thanks Thor, that’s pretty interesting. I can’t say I’m all that surprised we don’t have magic,” Darcy said.

“Ah, but you have so much life and courage, and imagination. There are so many things here that we do not have on Asgard,” Thor said.

“You just tryna cheer me up big fella?” Darcy asked.

“No, I speak in earnest; you live short lives, but you live them well, for the most part,” Thor said.

Darcy nodded thoughtfully; their lives were so different. To Thor, fighting with the Avengers until all the original Avengers were dead would likely be a fleeting moment for Thor, but for them it’s their whole lives. It didn’t really bother her; perhaps if she were dating an Asgardian she might be a tad worried, but she wasn’t so there was nothing to be worried about.

Besides, Halloween was on its way, so they had that to look forward to and prepare for. When your dad was a billionaire and famous, you were in for the best parties. The tower was practically transformed every year just for the occasion, the outside looking rather spooky. Different every year, the week leading up to Halloween hosted some fantastic events, and while some believed it to be such a waste with the amount of decoration, some of it was recycled for the next year and besides, the hired help were paid generously.

Darcy had her costume ready and had helped Thor with one too. She couldn’t wait, she _loved_ Halloween. Maybe it was because she had been able to go out with her dad as a child without paparazzi hounding them, because he was always in a costume and went unnoticed. It was something they had bounded well on and both enjoyed, hence why he went all out.

Halloween struck and night came, the party was in full swing.

Darcy was having fun like she usually did. Danced with her dad, her pseudo stepmother, Thor, Steve, Natasha, Clint, Pietro and Sam. Bruce had a headache and Wanda felt overwhelmed. She couldn’t blame her; she was unable to turn off the thoughts, they were bound to be too much. A man (or the figure looked masculine, anyway) in a hooded robe and a pointed mask danced with her, and he smelt so good, not that she could name the smell. She could get lost in it.

But it wasn’t all simple and fun. Something was happening, she could feel it. Something was changing around her; it was flashing, moving and something was lurking, somewhere in the corners of her eyes. The robed man she danced with…every time the flash occurred, his face lit up…and it wasn’t a face. A skeleton. She looked around, dazed, not panicking as she could, for this was surreal. Some of the people in the crowd turned skeletal in their costumes. Another few twirls, those skeletons were gone…along with the people themselves. Half the crowd had vanished, but in another twirl, they were back.

There was something familiar about this scene. She didn’t know what was going on, but she suddenly felt too hot and faint. She excused herself and left the room, going through corridors before finding one of the fancy bathrooms that had a lot of mirrors. She went straight to the sink and turned the tap, splashing water into her face. She straightened up and gasped. There was her dance partner in the mirror, black-robed and hooded, only his long pointed mask (a little like a plague doctor’s mask) could be seen underneath it.

She turned and there was no one.

 

 


	2. The Omen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something spooky that Darcy can't explain just happened...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late day two of the FYDL Halloween challenge: The Omen.

Darcy turned slowly back towards the mirror and saw that the figure was still there. The one she had danced with, yet now was only a reflection, like something out of a horror film. At that moment, she was glad to have pockets in her dress (that’s right; it has pockets!) and she reached in to grab her taser, bringing it out. Well, more like a blaster now that her dad had created a suit with its own blasters. Couldn’t be too careful and it saved such a slow reload situation. She was prepared for more things now.

Apparently for spectres in mirrors too.

“Who are you? _What_ are you?” Darcy asked.

The lights flickered before turning off completely. She braced herself for a possible attack, but nothing came and the lights came back on. The man in the mirror had vanished; turning around, she found that he wasn’t behind her either. Where had he gone? Darcy spun around a few times before checking the cubicles. Nothing. Was this a horrible Halloween joke? It might have almost been funny if she hadn’t seen those visions whilst dancing.

After she was certain that he wasn’t in the bathroom, she slowly made for the door and stepped through it, before regretting it just a bit. She stepped out into what looked like a hall of mirrors, a tetradecagon shaped room of mirrors, to be precise. It was dark, the mirrors giving off a light that allowed her to see. Fourteen mirrors…it reminded her of that one episode of Doctor who, with the tetradecagon shaped Globe theatre. Power in words. Except she doubted words could get her out of this.

Darcy looked around, wondering what the hell was going on. Had something been put in her drink? Had Thor done something Asgardian, without telling them? It seemed a bit too mean for him, though, so she wondered what the hell it could be. Because she didn’t feel like she was dreaming. That felt different. Something caught her eye then; a mirror. She slowly walked up to it, taser in hand (though what it could do against a _mirror_ she didn’t know).

The reflective surface was showing something and, on closer inspection, she realised it was a dream she’d had recently. Then another mirror lit up. Fourteen mirrors, fourteen different dreams and yet, they were all the same. All these foreboding dreams, dreams of people vanishing into dust, large purple men, colourful gems. So many strange dreams and now they were being highlighted here. Maybe she _was_ dreaming after all; this couldn’t be real.

_But Asgard and Gods were real. People with superpowers, man-made or born. Magic was real._

Darcy could hear the shift of her dress as she moved around from mirror to mirror, again and again, and after she had seen every scene, she was focusing on a way out. There were no doors, no seems, nothing. What was she going to _do_?

“Lost?”

Darcy whirled around at the sound of a voice and saw the figure she had danced with and seen in the mirror, except this time he was there in the flesh. Or robes. Whatever. She was trying very hard not to be scared, but she couldn’t help it; how was she to get out of here?

“Well?”

“What do you want with me?” Darcy asked.

The figure moved forward and she backed up until her back hit the wall. There was nowhere to run, so if he (or she? Or they? The shape seemed biologically masculine, though…) wanted to kill her, she couldn’t really protect herself. She really, _really_ hoped that this was just a nightmare, but it felt far too vivid. Her dreams, her nightmares, none of them felt like this. She suddenly felt strong hands on her shoulders, pulled back into a firm chest, the ghost of a breath on her ear.

“The question is, my dear, what do _you_ want with _me_?”

“I want you to get the fuck off of me,” Darcy said, trying to keep her voice even. “I never asked for some sort of crazy mirror voodoo; all I did was dance with you.”

“You have seen the dreams in the mirrors; those are your dreams, darling. You might not realise it, but you subconsciously seek help. I am the help you desire…for a price, of course,” the silken words washed over her.

She had also noted that the mask was gone, so she tried to turn around to look at him, but a silken gloved hand moved her chin back to face forward.

“Ah ah ah, no looking my dear…one look at me and you are dead.”

Darcy gulped. Trapped in the clutch of some hooded figure who seemed to know more than was possible by human means, she wondered whether she was going to get out of this alive. She wondered if anyone who came along to the women’s bathroom would see her or whether this was something no one could save her from.

“Are you going to kill me?” Darcy asked.

“Why would I do that? If I had wanted to, you would already be dead. You, however, are far too interesting to kill.”

“What are you here for? Please stop the bullshit and tell it to me straight!”

“Ah, but I am not straight, as you call it.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“Very well. You see your dreams in those mirrors…they are visions of the future. And you know who I am, deep down, _you know_. And when you know, when you are ready, _begging_ for help…I will be there. Just call on me.”

There was the sound of smashing mirrors, except they didn’t smash in the traditional sense; no, they seemed to fade to dust, one by one, until she was suddenly back in the bathroom as if nothing had happened. The figure was gone, there were no broken mirrors and she looked at herself. Not a mark. Unless you counted an increased pulse.

What had just happened?!


End file.
